


do it in reverse

by jupiterrism



Category: Bumilangit Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, how did this end up with 5.5k words i dont fucking know, im scared of canon!pengkor so i made soft!pengkor, kinda dumb too, not gonna lie pengkor in gundala scared the shit out of me, soft old men in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:42:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21579562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jupiterrism/pseuds/jupiterrism
Summary: Haidar Subandi really does this in a way that nobody ever does.
Relationships: Haidar Subandi (Pengkor)/Ridwan Bahri
Comments: 5
Kudos: 5





	do it in reverse

**Author's Note:**

> a story about pengkor, who doesnt know how to do human interactions properly, and one oblivious ridwan bahri.

Seeing Ganda Hamdan in his office as Ridwan steps in is a surprising sight. Mostly because he knows who Ganda is working for and therefore, it's only automatic for Ridwan to steer away from the man. Also, Ganda's office is on the other side of the building and he never, _ ever _ came into his office.

Ridwan is silent for a moment, staring at the bigger man with a raised eyebrow. Ganda returns the stare unrepentantly. Finally, Ridwan sighs, plopping down on his seat.

"Ada yang bisa saya bantu?" Ridwan asks, shrugging his coat off and loosening his tie. Ganda grins at him, mostly hidden behind his thick mustache and beard.

"Nah, gitu dong." His voice seems to boom in the quiet office. "Sama rekan kerja harus sopan, ya ngga, Pak?" 

Ridwan only levels him a look, raising one eyebrow higher. Ganda relents with a roll of his eyes and he approaches Ridwan with some kind of grudging respect in his steps.

"Ada sesuatu dari Pak Haidar." He sets a small red box on his desk and on top of it, a golden bow perched neatly. Without another word, Ganda turns around and steps out of his office, door slamming with a loud bang.

Hypocritical asshole, to hell with being polite, Ridwan muses with a sigh. The box is sitting on his desk innocently and despite the appearance, Ridwan couldn't help but feeling a little wary. Not because of the content, no, it's definitely not a bomb. It's about the person behind the gift.

Ridwan often catches Haidar Subandi loitering around the building, despite not having anything resembling a position in the parliament. Everyone knows who he is—a benefactor, very generous with his money, and also a supposed mob boss. The last one is unfounded but from the very first time Ridwan joined the parliament, everyone already gave him a warning to stay clear from Haidar Subandi.

His hand twitches and it's like something is urging him to open the box, probably curiosity. The box is light in his hand, not even making any sound when Ridwan shakes it gently. 

It's cufflinks with a tie clip. Ridwan blinks, staring at them closely. They're the same color, a shade of gold that Ridwan suspects will go well along his red suit. There is no note, upon closer inspection, no message or anything resembling it, so Ridwan shuts the box and sets it aside.

There's no way he mistakenly gives Ridwan cufflinks and a tie clip, right? Ridwan suspects they cost more than Ridwan's current cufflinks from their appearances, probably made out of _ real _ gold. He accepts gifts, from his co-workers, his assistant, his family—but Haidar? They barely exchanged words before and Ridwan has only seen him several times around so it's… intriguing.

Next time—when Haidar appears in his line of vision, Ridwan is going to corner him to ask about this.

* * *

Unfortunately, Haidar is nowhere to be seen the last few weeks. Ridwan caught a glimpse of him, but before he could talk to him or at least say hi to him, he disappeared. Ridwan frowns to himself at that, is Haidar avoiding him? But _ why_?

It's already sometimes past 9 when Ridwan heads back home. His bodyguards and driver have gone home early, Ridwan's order, and as he walks along the hallway, his steps echo loudly. A dark figure appears from his right just as Ridwan rounds the corner, startling him to a stop. He doesn't scream in surprise, but it's a near thing.

"Selamat malam, Pak Ridwan," the figure says, a glint of pearly whites flashing in the dark. God _ damn _ it, why did the security turned the lamps off already— 

Ridwan takes a deep breath, trying to control his racing heart. "Se—lamat malam," he manages, biting back a grimace.

The man steps out of the shadows, revealing a tall man in a suit, bright smile adorning his face. "Saya Ghani Zulham," the man dips his head a little, peering up at him, "asisten Pak Haidar, atau yang biasa bapak kenal sebagai Pengkor."

Ridwan blinks at the other man—Zulham, his mind supplies—before he nods his head. "Ada perlu apa?"

Zulham seems pleasant enough, from the way he lights up imperceptibly at his words. "Bapak pasti mau ke parkiran mobil. Kita ngobrol sambil jalan, bagaimana?"

The occurrence just screams of neatly arranged moment and it unsettles Ridwan greatly, but he nods his head, smiling at Zulham, who starts to walk next to him.

"Saya lama ngga lihat Pak Haidar seminggu ini," Ridwan starts, keeping Zulham in his peripheral line of vision, "dia ke mana?"

Zulham hums, staring straight ahead. "Pengkor sedang sibuk," he murmurs, glancing at Ridwan, "tapi beliau akan kembali besok pagi."

When Ridwan doesn't answer, Zulham makes an inquiring noise next to him. "Bapak ada perlu dengan Pengkor?"

"Saya cuma ingin bertanya sesuatu kepada Pak Haidar," Ridwan says, keeping his voice light. "Bukan sesuatu yang penting sih, tidak urgen." Not exactly urgent but it gnaws on the back of his head for a while.

"Mungkin bapak ingin menitip pesan kepada Pengkor? Akan saya sampaikan ketika beliau kembali."

His mind mulls over it for a moment, but then Ridwan shakes his head. No need to let Zulham knows about Haidar's little gift for him, he doesn't know Zulham well enough for that.

"Ah, tidak perlu," Ridwan offers the other man a sliver of smile, heading towards his car once they arrive in the parking lot. "Tapi terima kasih atas tawarannya."

Zulham merely inclines his head at that, something crossing his eyes in a flash and gone in a blink. "Baik kalau begitu." There is a smile on his lips, though his eyes remain calculating.

"Hati-hati di jalan, Pak Ridwan. Selamat malam." And with that, he's gone into his car, leaving Ridwan who's staring at the departing car with something akin to suspicion.

He doesn't understand Haidar or any of his associates. First Ganda Hamdan, now Zulham. Both men are… confusing, though in different manners. While he understands Ganda better, this Zulham is more cryptic—he doesn't get his intention at all.

Something catches his attention when Ridwan adjusts his rear view mirror—pink, white, and white intertwining into one and—

_ Is that a bouquet of flowers? _

Ridwan unbuckles his seatbelt before he climbs into the backseat, a frown on his face. Who the hell put it there and _ how _? Did someone break into his car? Or was it one of his bodyguards?

There is a small note attached to the bouquet and Ridwan reaches out to turn the interior light, so he could read the writing better.

_ Untuk Ridwan Bahri, semoga kamu menyukai hadiah dariku. Jangan lupa, sediakan vas untuk menyimpan bunganya. _

_ — P _

The words are written in elegant cursive, in a thick paper bound to the bouquet by a golden ribbon. The initial causes Ridwan to blink in surprise. Could P possibly stand for _ Pengkor _, out of all people? Ridwan doesn't know anyone else whose name starts with a 'P' but it's a wild guess, since he always refers to Pengkor as Haidar.

But what worries him, if Haidar was really the person behind this, how the hell did he put the bouquet in his car?

Another thing to ponder at night, another thing to add into the list of questions he has to ask to Haidar.

* * *

To his irritation, neither Haidar nor Ganda could be found during the rest of the week. Ridwan is walking aimlessly in the building, gaze darting around to find Haidar's skulking figure in the corner, or Ganda's usual purple shirt, or maybe Zulham's shadow around the corner.

In the end, Ridwan heads to the cafeteria, rather than returning to his office where his work awaits. It's sometimes past 2 in the afternoon, and as he steps into the cafeteria, his stomach rumbles loudly.

Just as he's about to order his lunch, he feels two figures flanking him, a man and a woman. Ridwan tenses up, because he knows that these two are not his colleagues. Too young to be ones, though they're probably around Hasbi's age.

"Selamat siang, Pak Ridwan," the man besides him says, voice oddly cheerful. He's taller than him, leanly built, and he has his hands clasped behind his back. "Mau pesan apa nih, Pak?"

Ridwan sends him a narrow sideways look, brows drawn into a suspicious frown. "Selamat siang juga," he returns tentatively. "Masih belum tahu. Kalau Anda?"

The man hums, bouncing a little on the ball of his feet. "Saya… pesan soto deh. Mbak Cantika, mau makan apa?"

The woman on Ridwan's right—_ Cantika? _—sighs and scrubs a hand over her face. "Adi," she grumbles under her breath before offering Ridwan an apologetic smile. "Selamat siang, Pak Ridwan. Saya Cantika, dan yang di sebelah kiri bapak itu Adi, adik saya."

Now that she mentions his name, the man looks vaguely familiar. Something snaps in his head. "Adi," Ridwan repeats, eyebrows raising high, "Adi Sulaiman yang pemain biola itu?"

Adi lights up at the recognition, nodding his head eagerly. "Benar sekali, Pak Ridwan!" 

"Kami berdua anaknya Bapak. Haidar Subandi," Cantika chimes in, swaying forward to stare at him, "kata Bapak, orang di sini biasa panggil dia," a pause, her eyes growing sharp, "Pengkor."

"Oh?" The words pique his interest so Ridwan turns his head to stare at Cantika. "Pak Haidar sudah punya anak?" He never knew that the man has children already, let alone married to someone, which makes the gifts even more confusing to him.

Cantika shakes her head. "Kami anak angkat." There is a fond smile on her lips as she says that, and the look she aims at Ridwan is warmer. "Bapak mau makan siang apa? Biar Adi yang pesan. Kita cari tempat duduk aja."

Despite his scowl, Adi nods at him. Ridwan glances at him for a moment before offering a smile. "Saya soto aja."

"Sotonya tiga berarti," Cantika adds, sneakily hooking her arm around Ridwan's. "Makasih, Adi." There is a cheeky smile on her face despite her tone. "Mari, Pak Ridwan."

Ridwan couldn't help but feel like he's going to go through an interrogation. Her presence is foreign but not entirely unwelcome. 

"Saya ngga suka sama orang-orang di sini," Cantika says all of a sudden.

Ridwan blinks up at her—she's only slightly taller than him, with the heels and all—and lets out an inquiring noise. "Kenapa begitu?" He should feel wary, because what Cantika just implied is worrying. _ People here_, a general statement, but all he has is curiosity.

"Mereka panggil Bapak _ 'Pengkor_', karena," she stops, gesturing around with her free hand, expression dark. "Pak Ridwan tahu sendiri 'kan? Tapi Bapak ngga masalah dipanggil begitu." Cantika scrunches her nose, brows drawn into a frown. "Saya ngga paham."

They settle into an empty bench, Ridwan across Cantika, sparing a spot for Adi next to Cantika. "Bapak kamu pintar. Beliau mengklaim suatu ejekan, memutar balikkan panggilan tersebut, dan memakainya sebagai nama untuk menunjukkan bahwa beliau yang memegang kuasa," Ridwan hums, propping both elbows on the table. "Tidak bisa dianggap mengejek kalau yang mereka gunakan adalah nama beliau, bukan?"

Across him, Cantika is silent, but comprehension dawns on her face. She nods her head, a hint of smile on her lips. "Ah, saya paham sekarang." A laughter slips past her lips at that. "Bapak jarang bicara soal itu, beliau cuma berharap saya paham dengan penjelasan yang seminimal mungkin."

Adi appears next to Cantika, carrying a tray of _ soto _ and he slides into the seat. "Makan siang!" he exclaims cheerfully. Despite his odd exuberance, he is careful when he slides one bowl towards Ridwan, wide smile on his face.

"Kalian ada perlu apa, kok jauh-jauh kemari?" Ridwan watches as Adi starts to dig in without any preamble, in contrast to Cantika who inclines her head before she starts eating.

It's Adi who answer, murmuring with his cheeks bulging. "Mau ketemu Pak Ridwan." He grimaces as Cantika elbows him, aiming a warning look his way.

"Udah gede, makan ditelen dulu," she grouses, cheeks coloring a little at Ridwan's small chuckle. The duo is indeed fascinating—it's a wonder that Haidar is able to handle them both. "Tapi benar kata Adi, kami mau bertemu Pak Ridwan."

That gets his attention in a second. A bowl of _ soto _abandoned, Ridwan leans closer. "Buat apa ketemu saya?" he murmurs quietly. For an unknown reason, the duo makes him want to pitch his voice low.

"Bapak mau ketemu," Adi chimes again, chewing on his spoon, but this time, Cantika nods along with him.

"Bapak mau ajak Pak Ridwan makan malam di rumah." There is something sly in her expression, and when Cantika exchanges a look with Adi, it's full of mischief. "Kalau bapak bersedia, nanti akan ada yang menjemput bapak."

A dinner? In his house? Ridwan is intrigued but— "Kok saya?"

Cantika blinks at that, momentarily confused. "Maksudnya?"

"Maksudnya," Ridwan continues, lips pursed a little, "'kan saya jarang ngobrol sama Pak Haidar. Terus, kok tiba-tiba—" His hand flops around, gesturing in random directions.

A wicked grin appears on Adi's face. "Bapak suka _ cufflinks _nya?" His eyes dart to Ridwan's sleeves, and the grin widens. "Oh, dipakai! Bagus kalau begitu."

Cantika's gaze is also drawn to his sleeves and she lets out a delighted laugh at that. With one deft movement, she pulls her phone out. "Saya foto ya, Pak, buat Bapak."

Before Ridwan could protest, Cantika shows him her phone—it's him, staring at the camera while fiddling with the cufflinks (_ when did he do that _)—and over her shoulder, Adi cackles in amusement. "Bagus lho Pak, fotonya. Bapak pasti suka."

Ridwan feels his cheeks heat up at the words—he has a feeling that these two are teasing him. "Makan malamnya kapan?" he inquires, trying to get the conversation back to track.

Sobering from his giggles, Adi lifts his head to stare at Ridwan. "Nanti malam. Iya 'kan, Mbak?" He glances at Cantika, who nods her head.

"Kalau bapak bersedia, nanti akan ada yang jemput bapak. Salah satu saudara kami." 

Ridwan arches an eyebrow at that. "Saudara kalian ada berapa memangnya?"

"Banyak, Pak," Cantika grins at him, the expression surprisingly makes her appear younger. "Nanti bapak bakal ketemu mereka kalau bapak ke rumah."

Sensing that he couldn't possibly reject the request, Ridwan relents with a sigh and a nod. "Baik, jam berapa saya harus keluar kantor?"

The twin gleeful faces across him is a little unsettling, Ridwan supplies internally. "Jam 7? Bapak tunggu saja di ruangan, nanti saudara saya yang akan menjemput bapak."

Ridwan finds it wise not to question whatever scheme Haidar and his whole family have planned, so he nods his head again. "Baik, jam 7," he repeats, watching Cantika and Adi warily.

"Oh iya," Cantika says all of a sudden, halfway through her _ soto _. "Jangan lupa cek laci meja bapak nanti, ya."

When Ridwan frowns at her, she only beams at him and goes to finish her meals. Next to her, Adi is an equal beaming presence full of mischievous malice.

( It's a box, containing a watch. _ Designer _ watch. Ridwan doesn't know what to do with it but he clasps it around his wrist anyway. What the hell is this. )

* * *

The clock has just struck 7 sharp when there's a knock on his door. Ridwan glances up from his laptop, a hand on the handle of his glasses, and he pauses for a moment, contemplating.

"Masuk?" He doesn't mean it to be a request, but as the door swings open to reveal the person behind it, Ridwan is glad he did.

"Selamat malam, Pak Ridwan." The word is spoken in such a low voice that Ridwan almost misses it. It comes from a bald man with his eyes hidden behind round glasses. Next to him is a tall woman, watching him with such contempt that it sends shivers along his spine.

"Anaknya Pak Haidar, ya?" The woman's scorn eases at his words and she offers him a nod. They step into the room, standing on each side of the door but facing Ridwan. 

With a muffled groan, Ridwan gets to his feet and twists around to pop his spine. His back is twinging, probably from the long hours he spent sitting down, and when he bends down to grab his briefcase, another crack could be heard.

The duo is watching him impassively, though the woman is radiating amusement. "Nama kalian siapa?"

"Saya Kamal." Surprisingly, it's the man in glasses who answers. He gestures to the woman, who inclines her head a little. "Jenar. Kami datang untuk menjemput bapak."

Worded like that, it feels like Ridwan is walking straight into a lion's cage and it sends a sense of dread through him. But he nods, heading to the door and he steps out of his room with the duo flanking him.

"Pak Haidar sibuk, ya?" Ridwan starts, because the silence that echoes between the three of them has started to grow suffocating.

Jenar hums, her shoulders straight and eyes ahead, but she spares him a glance. "Bapak… ada acara di luar kota," she offers quietly, exchanging looks with her brother, "jadi belum bisa bertemu bapak secara langsung."

Kamal glances at his left wrist, a smile lit up his features into something less placid. "Suka jamnya, Pak?"

When Ridwan flushes red and fiddles with his wristwatch, Jenar lets out a small chuckle. The sound rings in the surprisingly empty hallway, clear and soft. "Dipakai juga, jamnya."

"Saya masih ngga paham kenapa Pak Haidar ngasih saya semua ini," Ridwan saya absentmindedly, though he has guesses. The man does have money, and to him, this might not cost much. But to Ridwan? This is _too_ much.

"Nanti Pak Ridwan bisa tanyakan sendiri ke Bapak," comes Jenar's short answer and they slide into the car, Jenar next to the driver side and Ridwan on the back seat.

The ride back to the duo's place is quick and filled with tense silence, or maybe it's just his feelings. The car finally pulls up outside a house, big enough to be referred as a mansion. It's grand, but it also gives the familiarity of home. Ridwan gapes at the sight for a moment before stepping out of the car, with Kamal and Jenar on his sides. They radiate bodyguards energy, somehow, for an unknown reason.

The interior is as magnificent as the exterior, dominated by ivory and earthy tones with a hint of white and gold everywhere. There is a split staircase in the middle that leads to the second floor, and in the middle of it, stood Cantika and a massive man.

"Pak Ridwan," Cantika calls out, already rushing towards Ridwan and her siblings. The man next to her rolls his eyes but follows her anyway but at a slower pace.

"Cantika," Ridwan inclines his head and flashes a smile at her. "Rumahnya besar sekali. Saudara-saudara kamu tinggal di sini semua?"

"Anak-anak Bapak yang tinggal di sini ada 10, Pak," the tall man answers from behind Cantika. When Ridwan turns around to glance at him, he quirks up a smile. "Tanto." To Ridwan's surprise, he offers a hand towards him, which Ridwan takes with a nod of his head. Tanto is wearing gloves, Ridwan realizes, but his grip is strong, sturdy.

"Pak Haidar—?" Ridwan tries to keep his curiosity out of his voice but according to the way four faces light up in a similar manner, it fails.

"Bapak masih siap-siap di kamar, kita ke ruang makan dulu aja," Cantika quips from next to him, her arm around his. Ridwan doesn't know when she snuck her arm into his but she appears unrepentant.

The dining room is as lavish as the lobby, all earthy tones but it's dimly lit. The kitchen is only separated by a line of counters, arranged in a way that it resembles a bar, along with the stools. There are people huddling in the kitchen, two men and a girl, and they're starting to yell at each other.

Cantika groans at the gradually increasing volume and lets out a piercing whistle that makes everyone in close proximity winces. "_ Children! _" she pitches her voice loud, causing three heads to turn around, sheepish grins in place. One of them is Adi, but it's the girl who gasps when her eyes land on Ridwan.

"Oh! Ini yang namanya Pak Ridwan?" Before Ridwan could open his mouth to utter something out, she is out and in front of Ridwan in a flash, grinning widely. "Ganteng banget! Pantes Bapak—"

"Desti! Bantuin bawain makanan ke meja makan!" A voice calls out from the kitchen and the girl—_ Desti? _—scowls at the source, before heading back to the kitchen with an indignant huff. She stomps towards the kitchen, leaving Ridwan standing in the doorway, gaping a little. Cantika sighs next to him, and Ridwan could hear Tanto snorting out a laugh.

"Maaf ya, Pak," Jenar offers, but she's holding back a smile, "Desti memang anaknya begitu." 

"Ngga apa-apa," Ridwan says faintly, still baffled at the enthusiasm the girl showed and her offhand remarks. "Bapak kalian kenapa, memangnya—?"

Cantika hums, sounding a little distracted as she watches her siblings bringing in a plethora of dishes, frowning a little. "Pak Ridwan bisa tanya sendiri ke Bapak, kalau penasaran," is all she says, untangling herself from Ridwan to help her siblings.

It's Tanto who ushers him to the dining table, pulling a chair out for him. "Duduk dulu, Pak. Bapak akan segera datang."

Ridwan nods, settling into the chair, and watches with dreading amusement at people cluttered around the dining room and kitchen. It's so unlike his family, though Ridwan knows that comparing won't do any good, he couldn't help but think that way. His children are loud, but in no way as loud as Haidar's. The man has 10 children, _ damn _ it.

More food appears in the dining table, brought in by a man with a cheeky grin. "Halo, Pak Ridwan," he offers cheerfully, setting another plate of what looks like a steamed fish on the table with a thud. "Saya ngga tahu bapak suka makan apa, jadi saya masak," he pauses, gesturing to the kitchen, "semuanya."

"Saya suka makan apa saja kok," Ridwan assures him, leaning in to examine the dishes. "Terima kasih, ya, sudah repot-repot mengundang saya makan malam."

The man chuckles, leaning against an empty chair. There is a grin on his lips but his eyes are calculating. "Ngga repot sama sekali kok, Pak. Saya senang akhirnya bisa bertemu dengan bapak."

Ridwan returns the smile, a little tentative, and he holds out a hand. The man appears surprised at the gesture, but he takes his hand without hesitation. "Tetap saja," Ridwan insists, "terima kasih banyak."

"Sama-sama, Pak," the man demurs, eyes darting to the door that slams open. "Bapak sudah datang!" He yells to the kitchen where the clattering suddenly stops. 

True to his words, Ridwan watches as Haidar Subandi walks into the dining room, followed by three men. Haidar's eyes seem to scan the room and when they land on Ridwan, his gaze widens imperceptibly. Ridwan feels his heart flips behind his ribcage—is it nerves or something else entirely?

"Pak Ridwan." Ridwan half expected him to sound rough and drawling, the way he often sounds when he's talking to people in parliament, but his voice is… soft yet strong. There is a smile on his face, nearly splitting his face in two, and it's an easy feat to return the smile.

"Pak Haidar." He doesn't remember when he gets to his feet and approaching the other man, but Ridwan startles to a stop once he stands in front of the man. Haidar is still staring at him, politely curious. "Anu, ini—terima kasih?"

There goes his image he's meticulously built for years. Damn him and his stuttering, but there's something about Haidar Subandi that makes words died down on the tip of his tongue. Haidar barks out a laughter, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder and ushering him back to his seat. "Anda suka jamnya, kalau begitu?"

"Suka sekali," Ridwan agrees immediately, hand fiddling with the wristwatch, "cuma terlalu… mahal buat saya, Pak. Saya jadi ngga enak."

Haidar waves a dismissive hand, settling into a chair next to Ridwan. The children are watching them with various expressions, ranging from amusement to curiosity. They sit down on the dining chairs, chattering to themselves as they fill their plates, but their eyes are locked on Ridwan and Haidar. It makes Ridwan queasy, somehow, but he's doing his best to ignore the looks.

"Yang penting 'kan bapak suka hadiahnya," is all Haidar says and he fills Ridwan's plate with an array of food. "Semur daging buatan Jack enak lho, Pak." Haidar gestures to his son—_Jack— _who's preening under the compliment.

"_Beef stew _ kali, Pak," Jenar chimes, Desti giggling next to her. Haidar only rolls his eyes good-naturedly, snorting out a laugh.

"Ya 'kan sama saja to, _ nduk_." Haidar turns his attention back to Ridwan, who's humming around his fork. He leans close, lips nearly brushing his earlobe, and despite the tension that floods him, Ridwan leans into him. "Nanti jangan pulang dulu, Pak. Saya mau bicara, berdua saja." Haidar's voice is low, raspy, and it sends a shiver down his spine.

Ridwan nods, tongue trapped in his throat and breath stuttering in his chest. Haidar pulls away, lips curling into a slight smile. His eyes are dark, malicious deeply buried, but Ridwan couldn't drag his eyes off him. 

A cough and a badly muffled giggle break whatever trance that washes through Ridwan. He blinks and watches as Haidar leans back, noting that the other man's cheeks are stained red. Is Haidar—_blushing_?

"Pak, kami naik dulu, ya." Cantika is already on her feet, ushering her siblings to get up as well. She's carrying a stack of plates, heading to the sink with Tanto and another man, whose name Ridwan doesn't know, both hugging more empty plates and bowls. "Nanti biar aku dan yang lain yang cuci piring kalau Bapak sama Pak Ridwan udah selesai."

Haidar nods his head, the flush on his cheeks didn't really disappear, and Ridwan notices that his children are giving them knowing looks. Even the three men that came alongside Haidar earlier—they have playful smiles on his lips. One even wiggles his eyebrows at Ridwan when he heads to the door. 

The door shuts close but Ridwan could hear giggles from outside and next to him, Haidar shifts a little on his seat. The man appears placid, despite his constant hand wringing

"Pak Haidar," Ridwan starts, fiddling with his cufflinks absentmindedly, "bapak… ada mau apa dengan saya?"

"'Mau'?" Haidar echoes, staring at him with his head tilted. "Maksud bapak?"

Ridwan narrows his eyes at the other man. "Maksud saya ini," he shakes his hand, wrist watch rattling. "Tidak ada orang yang secara cuma-cuma memberi saya hadiah. Kita bahkan tidak pernah berbicara dengan satu sama lain."

It brings a smile to Haidar's lips, for an unknown reason, and he shrugs a shoulder. "Kalau itu tujuan saya, bagaimana?"

That makes Ridwan startles to a stop, gaping a little. "Maksudnya?" 

Haidar opens his mouth to answer but the door to the dining room bangs open, many figures spilling into the room with several loud yells. Children are piling up on the floor, and on top of the pile lies Desti. In contrast to all her groaning siblings, she's grinning and with a grace, she rises to her feet and brushes invisible dust off her clothes. Next to Ridwan, Haidar sighs heavily and he has his face hidden in his palms.

"_Desti _," Haidar bemoans. The whole situation is funny and Ridwan would've laughed himself crying if he's not too confused.

"Maksud Bapak," Desti sing-songs, waltzing towards the two of them, "Bapak _ ngasih _hadiah ke Pak Ridwan biar Bapak bisa ngobrol sama Pak Ridwan!"

Haidar lets out another despairing noise at that, the tip of his ears flushing bright red. "Cantika," he calls out and Ridwan watches with amusement as the woman in question looks like a deer caught in headlights, "ngapain?"

Cantika flushes red but it's Tanto who answers. He has his arms crossed across his chest, a look of amusement on his face. "Menyelamatkan Bapak. Bapak payah kalau lagi naksir orang."

_ Oh? That's unexpected _ . Out of all the things that go through Ridwan's mind, the guesses, _ this _is not one of it, though it's not entirely unwanted. "Pak Haidar?" Ridwan says tentatively and he could feel the other man stiffen, glancing at him. "Apa itu benar?" 

It's amusing to see the ever so fearsome Haidar Subandi _ fidgeting _ in his seat and fiddling with his sleeves. "Anu," he says eloquently and Ridwan couldn't help but snort out a laugh. "Tanto, Cantika, Jenar," Haidar calls out, sounding exasperated, "naik, _ hus_."

Jenar and Cantika share a look and behind them, Tanto rolls his eyes. But they oblige, urging their siblings out of the dining room. The last one to step out are Desti and Adi, and they both have the same wicked grin on their lips, something that raises alert in Ridwan's head. 

"_Good luck _, Bapak!" the girl giggles and sends her father a wink, and next to Ridwan, Haidar lets out a noise in mortification. The door slams shut, once again leaving the room silent. 

Ridwan glances sideways at Haidar, who still has his head in his palms, and it raises something akin of a fondness in his chest. Tentatively, Ridwan reaches out to touch the other man's scared wrist, causing Haidar to raise his head and stares at him with wide-eyed look that, frankly, makes him looks years younger despite the scar on the right side of his face.

"Pak Haidar," Ridwan starts, voice soft but full of mirth, "kalau bapak mau ngobrol sama saya, ya ngobrol aja. Datang ke kantor saya. Tidak perlu kirim hadiah mahal-mahal seperti ini."

Haidar doesn't grumble but he purses his lips a little, as if he's _ pouting. _ "Saya… tidak tahu caranya." His voice is small, full of uncertainty, and Ridwan scoots closer to hold his hand properly.

"Saya tahu banyak teman-teman bapak yang ngga suka sama saya," the man adds, though now his voice is sharp with an underlying of steel, "saya tidak mau bapak kenapa-kenapa."

"Saya juga," he continues, the hesitation is back and he peers up at Ridwan, "mau kenal bapak lebih jauh."

Ridwan couldn't help but let out a small chuckle at that—people usually wants to get close to someone in order to give them gifts but Haidar does it in reverse. It's interesting, somehow.

"Lain kali kalau bapak mau ngobrol sama saya, datang ke kantor saya aja," Ridwan offers, lips forming a wide smile. He couldn't help it, Haidar is very endearing in his inability to do things like others and it brings something warm to his chest. "Atau bapak bisa hubungi saya di nomor pribadi saya." Ridwan holds out his business card, watching Haidar takes it tentatively.

"Tidak perlu kirim hadiah mahal-mahal, Pak," he adds, giving the hand in his grip a squeeze. Haidar is staring at him, a little unsure but he nods his head in the end.

"Panggil saya Haidar, kalau begitu," the man offers, a tentative smile gracing his lips. Ridwan finds himself unable to look away—his eyes are dark, with the warmth of dying embers, and it's completely instinctive for Ridwan to leans close.

"Ridwan," he returns, smiling wider, "biar tidak terlalu formal."

To his surprise, Haidar leans in to brush his lips against his knuckles, leaving a butterfly light kiss across skin. "Terima kasih sudah datang malam ini," he says against his hand, peering up from under his fringes. The gesture sends heat rushing up Ridwan's face and he nods, mouth suddenly dry. "Simpan saja hadiahnya, jamnya terlihat cocok di pergelangan tangan kamu."

When they finally step out of the dining room, Jenar and a man are both waiting for them on the landing of the stairs, supporting familiar glints in their eyes. It's partly unsettling and Ridwan scoots closer to Haidar, leaning into the hand on his lower back.

"Kanigara, Jenar," the other man calls out, making the two straighten up, alert. "Antar Pak Ridwan pulang."

Haidar then turns his attention to Ridwan and with a smile, he leans in. "Hati-hati di jalan, Ridwan." His voice is low and raspy, lips brushing against his earlobe, and Ridwan could only nod his head dumbly. 

The ride to his place is silent, but Ridwan could feel eyes on him, gaze radiating amusement. Ridwan catches Kanigara's gaze through the rear view mirror and as he sees approval painted in it, something settles deep inside him.

"Kayanya kita bakal sering bertemu, Pak," the man offers when he pulls outside Ridwan's place and next to him, Jenar nods her head, hiding a smile. "Sering-sering main ke rumah, Pak. Kita jarang di rumah kok, jadi Pak Ridwan bisa berduaan sama Bapak."

Ridwan slips out of the car, leaving the two children giggling, but he also has a smile, wide on his face. Tonight is good.

* * *

There are multiple bouquets of flowers on his office in the morning, gigantic and nearly taking the space of the room. It's all red, pink, and white—roses, carnations, peonies, with several sunflowers scattered around. Ridwan sneezes, has he grown allergic to flower pollen?

His phone buzzes in his pocket and with a sigh, Ridwan fishes it out. As expected, there is a single text message from an unnamed contact.

_ Selamat pagi, Ridwan. Semoga kamu suka bunganya. :) _

Another heavy sigh escapes Ridwan unconsciously—Haidar Subandi really does this in a way that nobody ever does.

**Author's Note:**

> what even is th ISSSSS writing is hard


End file.
